Oh, right. Well, if you wouldn't mind, I'd be grateful if you popped up here and helped me not bleed to death, you bloody idiot!

Eleven pints of piss.

Bryony, come on. This is an occupational hazard. The axe could've swung just as easily towards me.

Fucking tinned meat.

Fucking amateur hour here.

I guess they both lost Dead Top Trumps. Rest in pieces, dickheads

Calm down George Best, you’d had 2 beers.

Fucking mad isn't it. All the bodies we burned through to get to this point and this plum ended up being the Jellicle Choice.

This is as close to laughing as I've ever seen you get.

Maybe let him go? Let him go? Who's in charge here? This guy? This piss-drinking motherfucker?

Halbech, we need this guy in one piece-

You fucking people. If you love the fucking 90s so much I'll get Chesney Hawkes to marry you both. You can do the fucking Bartman together while I drown you in Sunny Delight.

CLIVE HANGS UP

You know the reason you haven't been able to get it up is down to us, right?

Too much brainal fisting on your part, I think.

That's what I want to call it. 'Continue'. I want it on billboards. 'Do you want to continue?' Make it a bit more you know sci-fi, maybe spell it with a K or something. And you're the start of it all.

CLIVE'S HELICOPTER. CLIVE IS ON THE PHONE.

You'll be fine. I'm sure Currys PC World always need a new refrigerator technician.

Come on. You're meant to say, 'I know that laugh.' And then the curtain rolls back and its Jabba the Hutt!

I mean it really wasn't smart of you Bryony. The Board know all my big talk is exactly that. It’s talk. But you start making shit up, you threatening to get a gun from your safe and shoot him like you're a Peaky Blinder...It don’t work coming from the likes of you.